The Dark I Know Well
by Nemo Blue Rose
Summary: "Dark so dark."  Everyone has a guardian angel in disguise.


Author's Note: I do not own these characters even though I wish I did. . These are the marvelous characters from Spring Awakening. Read and review please. Critiques are appreciated.

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The Dark I Know Well

By: S. Blue Rose Blair

Chapter One: Blows My Mind

He had been my best friend ever since we were just little kids, and we were near inseparable. I remember running to his house early one morning after the first snow of the year to go sledding crisp snow, build a friendly snowman, or make snow angels. My fondest memories were when we would sneak off from the rest of the group to go swimming in a nearby stream.

Even in my childhood, my father would beat me for my 'misbehaving'. Truth was he was a sick bastard; he would beat me for no real reason. I'd ask him how he was that evening and I'd get a verbal lashing. When he found out I had failed he didn't even give me a chance to explain myself, he just went ahead and slapped me across the face not once but three times. I could feel the tears slipping down my face as they had then. I wanted to shout, 'It's not my fault!' or 'That's not fair I'm just a kid!'

If Melchior ever noticed my multiplying bruises he never said anything about them. When I was with Melchior it was exciting, an adventure. I was glad for this; I don't even know where I would begin to explain.

Young Melchior blossomed into a graceful young man, while me… Well I became awkward and gangly. I grew, but I did not grow handsome rather I seem to have done just the opposite. My hair became an untamable frazzled mess, and my skin ashen with sunken rings around my eyes. As he began to notice the…well… um… the fairer gender he began to forget me, and leave me to wander aimlessly in the lost sands of time, and… adolescence.

Honestly, I don't think he ever noticed how much I admired him or how much I cared. I sometimes even wondered if he would grieve at my funeral or would he not give damn and just bear that ever present smirk. Then again I wouldn't know after all, I'm just a little nobody who will soon be forgotten.

I'm glad that my dear friend would never know that the essays he wrote to help me were actually the articles that damned me. I couldn't hurt him in that way I just… But the dreams, oh the nightmares, that had haunted me in even my waking hours began to change and morph into something even more appalling.

It wasn't Melchior's fault though. I encouraged him to right the essays, and I was the one who accepted them. He didn't force me to take them let alone read them. It's all my fault I don't deserve anybody's help. My father was right after all. I'm just a big failure, an embarrassment to everyone I ever loved.

I remember standing in my father's study feeling the bitter cold power of the gun that I had just removed from my pocket. I would die tonight; after all I'm just a worthless piece of…

"Moritz Stiefel?" I quickly returned the gun to my pocket and spun on my heel to see Ilse clad in only a white dress shirt that was many sizes too big on her. What was she doing here? And why was she dress like that? So… so… scantily?

"Ilse? Y- You… a… frightened me." I gasped disbelieving. I hadn't seen her for years. Was she a saving angel sent for me? Or was she a demon sent to damn me further?

"Did you lose something?" She looked at me and I could see genuine concern. She always did worry more about others than herself. I guess you could say it was her fatal flaw. "What are you looking for?" She stepped closer, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

"I- if only I knew." I looked down. I'm a coward, but there was no way that I could tell her the truth.

"Then what's the use of looking. I'm on the way home. Want to come?" She showed that bright smile that I remembered from the days when all the children in the village would play together. She acted as though this just another little game. "I don't know. S-so where have you been keeping yourself?" I forced out. She just sighed and I could see her drift even further into that childlike mindset of hers.

"I've been living with an artist you know. They like to paint me." Her smile faltered for a second "It's a good time most of the time." Her smile faded away completely. "Today, though, was not. He woke me with a gun set against my breast and said 'One twitch and it's the end.' It really gave me the goose bumps." A genuine smile sprung onto her face. "So how have you been, Moritz? Still in school?" I looked away.

"Well… um… this semester I am through." I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth.

"You remember how we use to run back to my house and play pirates? Wendla Bergmen, Melchior Gabor, you, and I?" She sighed, a clandestine smile on her face. Such a dreamer, I wish I was like her.

"Actually I'd better go." I interrupted her from her memories, anxious to get away. I can't let her be hurt in any way, she's too special. "Walk as far as my house with me." I looked her in the eyes and instantly looked away regretting it. I can't hurt her.

"We'll get out those old tomahawks, and play together like we used to." I felt a slight tug in my heart. "Those were some marvelous times. Hiding in our wigwams." I choked out in agreeing.

"I could even brush your hair and curl it." I felt my face grow red as she said this.

"I wish I could." Think of something, think you moron, think. "Then why don't you?" I could hear the sadness seeping into her voice even though there was a faint smile on her face. "Eighty lines of Virgil, sixteen equations, a paper on the Hapsburgs." Leave me alone, please; I am trying to end this.

"Moritz Stiefel, This may have been your last chance." She turned to walk away but not before murmuring softly over her shoulder, tearing marring her speech. "By the time you wake up I may be lying on some trash heap. Forgotten." She ran off down the path not sparing me a glance.

"Ilse!" I shouted, but there was no response. "What have I done?" I could feel the tears sting behind my eyes, and this time I let them fall. "Why the hell did I have to be born such a failure?"

I ran into the forest to a stream I remembered from my childhood. Sitting against a tree and watched the sun set. I have always loved the sky at twilight. The sky is always so beautiful before the night; the spiraling reds, pinks and oranges that fade into a precious bruised purple, before the blackness consumes all color. A crescent moon is the only light on this dark night. The darkness frightens me, but I know it well.

"Oh God, It's so dark. So dark…" I pulled the gun out of my pocket and let the cold metal press into the palm of my hand with such a heavy weight. "So…" I swiftly moved the gun towards my mouth.

"Moritz! What are you...?" The voice emanated fear. I gasped and nearly dropped the gun. The figure masked by darkness stepped forward it was…

"Melchior! W- what are you doing here?" His omnipresent smirk was absent from his face for once and he looked as pale as some phantasm. His jaw was dropped and his eyes huge. Shit! I messed up big this time.

"Moritz! Wha- what the hell are you doing? Why do you have a- a- a…" He paused and gulped audibly. "Well that." He pointed to the gun that I had held before my mouth only seconds ago with my finger lightly resting on the trigger. The grotesque laughter that spilled from my lips, as my face split into a manic smile, was not my own.

"And you're the smart one. What do you think I was going to do? Have some little tea party?" Sarcasm dripped heavily from my words. It was my voice, but those weren't my words. Inside I was my normal self trembling violently, but on the outside I wore the possessing mask of some cold hearted demon that didn't fear death. Rather he took great delight in the mere thought of it.

"Moritz…" Melchior whispered, his voice wavering thin and threatening to jump an octave. I could see it in his eyes. His fear for not only himself, but also… Me. "Moritz, why are you doing this?"

"Well let's see. No one cares if I live or die. My parents think I'm an embarrassment. My dad beats me for being such a failure. Oh and did I mention that no one gives a damn if I live or die!" I could feel the tremble in my voice fade as the cold darkness rose within me again, taking over. I looked at my friend and saw the panic clear on his face. He must think me a monster. I felt tears begin to fall from my eyes. Forcing myself to look away from him I could feel myself begin to tremble violently. I would always be the screw up. I closed my eyes and tightened my grip on the gun. I just can't do this anymore.

"Moritz, I'm here for you, my friend. Speak to me I'll listen." Ha! Famous last words. I gasped as a warm hand lightly pressed on my shoulder melting the icy exterior I had taken on. I felt myself drowning in the overwhelming fear that I had managed to force into a deep corner of my mind most of this evening. My body trembling, shaking with the tears I had tried to hold back all evening. Oh God. Warm hands reached over and gently pry the gun from my limp hand.

"Moritz, I won't let them hurt you again. I promise. I'll protect you with my whole being, my friend." Yeah, as if that ever did much good before. A warmness surrounded me and everything began to go dark, oh so dark. Was this what heaven felt like?

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Author's Note: Let me know what you think my loves.


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